Heather Brantley

Chapter 7

Connie'a cheeks felt warm at the way Mike was assessing her after she made the comment about Katherine Scott seeming to be a young woman in love.

"In love?" Mike half-teased, "So now we are an authority on the subject of love?"

Immediately he saw Connie's mouth tighten as she stared straight ahead. He had not expected such a cool reception. The light situation had turned uncomfortable and he couldn't imagine what he had said that was so wrong, but he wished he could take it back.

What he hadn't realized was that Connie was not upset; she was embarrassed discussing 'love' with her boss. To her, the conversation had veered into personal status, which, she told herself was illogical since the mention of love had nothing to do with Mike, or any professional colleague. Especially Mike, she reminded herself again.

"I'm no expert, mind you," Connie carefully picked her words, "I'm just saying there's a certain faraway look women get when ..they are thinking of someone special..."

"Someone special," Mike repeated, as he regarded her intently as if he were contemplating the words. She felt more warmth running up to her cheeks as she tried to diffuse the awkward situation.

"I think that we getting slightly away from the case, don't you think?" Connie stated quietly.

Mike also felt relieved at the change of subject, "You're right, of course, " he tried to give a reassuring smile, "We need to concentrate on the case. How about this. I order some Chinese food while we work on the case together…"

His request was left open-ended. She wanted so much to say yes, to get caught up in a late-night case with Mike again. But then she remembered that she had made dinner plans with Johnny and she was already running late.

"I'm sorry, Mike," there was a slight tremor in her voice, "...I have to go..."

His reaction revealed nothing as he squared his shoulders.

"Of course, it's late for you," he forced a smile, "I can get more work done on my own anyway."

Connie nodded and left before she changed her mind.

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The millions of lights that stretched throughout New York City streets at night were blinding. Cars, noise and people spilled out from everywhere. Johnny had been driving around aimlessly with Connie for 20 minutes while they looked for a place to dine.

"So if you don't want Chinese food," Johnny inquired, "what kind of food do you feel like having?"

At this point, Connie could have even skipped dinner.

"It's up to you," she replied absent-mindedly from the passenger side, "I'm not that hungry, anyway."

He grunted at Connie's lack of interest, "Sometimes, chica, I wish you would stop thinking of work."

She turned to him, "What makes you think my mind was on work?"

"You have that look...that faraway look," he responded as he stopped at a signal.

Connie's eyes widened at the mention of faraway look, Sorry... it's been a long day, I guess."

"As always," his tone sounded somewhat bitter, "I sometimes feel as though I am the leftovers of your thoughts."

Connie wanted to protest, to say it wasn't true, but she couldn't.

The light turned green and he made a right onto Centre Street, "Anyway," he suggested, "I think there's a few out of the way cafes just past this street."

As he continued driving, Connie knew they were going to pass the DA's office building. Sure enough, it loomed straight ahead. She willed herself not to look in that direction, but instead she found her nose pressed up against the passenger side window, while she peered up at the 16th floor.

One single lit window could be seen, surrounded by the darkness of the others.

Mike was up there all alone.

Johnny half turned in her direction and took note of how Connie looked back wistfully at her place of work. He didn't know how much longer he could take being second place to her job.

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Although Mike was in early the next day, he was surprised to see Connie already at her desk. He could see that she was concentrating on the same file he had been viewing last night.

This time it was his turn to be at her doorway, "Hi," he greeted.

When she turned to him, she looked as beautiful as ever, but Mike couldn't help noticing the shadows under her eyes.

"Hi Mike," she returned his greeting before going back to the file. He went and sat in the visitor's chair facing her, something he did often when he is in her office. Mike enjoyed the idea that she was in control behind the desk and he was playing the underling.

The Judge had granted a continuance of one week. That wasn't a lot of time to produce a new theory of the case. All Mike knew was that something wasn't right about the case. Sitting so close to Connie, his assumption about her lacking sleep was correct-she looked tired.

"Everything alright?" he asked, a concerned look on his face.

Connie was surprised he noticed.

"Yes, of course, it's just that I've been thinking about...the Brantley case," Connie lied.

"Good," Mike stated, "because we are about to have a visitor that might shed some additional light on the case."

"Oh? " Connie asked, "And who might that be?"

"Tim Brantley's aunt, Heather Brantley," Mike explained, "The Brantleys were down in Mexico during the car incident, but last night the husband called and he told me that he was sending his wife Heather back to the states in their private plane and she would be in our office this morning."

Connie nodded; she had read the file. Her husband Edward Brantley was the uncle of Tim Brantley, the accused. Both Edward and Heather Brantley had attended a going away party given in honor of them; the same party that Tim had been drunk the night of the tragic accident. And it was Edward's Mustang that Tim Brantley had used that night.

It didn't take long for Mrs. Brantley to make her appearance. Dressed tastefully, she was a beautiful blonde with large brown expressive eyes and a mouth that smiled to seduce. In short, she was a millionaire's trophy wife.

And Connie couldn't notice how the woman's eyes sparkled the minute she laid eyes on Mike. He led her into his office, as Connie trailed in and all three sat down.

"I'm sorry we couldn't have met under better circumstances," Mike instinctively stated.

By the way Heather Brantley smiled encouragingly and slowly crossed her legs, she seemed to interpret the statement as a flirtatious remark.

"Well, Mr. Cutter, it's just delightful that we've met," she said as Connie forced herself not to roll her eyes.

"So what is the purpose of your visit, Mrs. Brantley?" Mike got right down to business.

"My nephew is innocent, Mr. Cutter," her eyes were round, "and in order to help him, I thought I'd give you some family background to help you understand the situation. You see, it all boils down to you understanding one particular family member and everything else will fall in place. "

"And whom would that be?" Mike inquired.

"The patriarch Edison Brantley," she responded.

Then she went on to explain that Edison was her husband's father and Tim's grandfather. a self made multi millionaire. Unfortunately Edison was dying and knew it. His doctors had given him six months to live, and that was a year ago.

Heather stated Edison was successful not only because of his business acumen but because he was callous, strong-minded and completely unpredictable. Edison held tight to his wealth and if Tim Brantley was ever convicted of killing a man with an automobile, he would disinherit Tim immediately.

"Edison even stated that fact on the night of the party," she said, "I had spoken to him on the phone, for he had been too ill to attend."

"And it's a fact that Tim had been driving one of your husband's vehicles on the night of the accident?" Mike asked.

"Oh yes," she agreed, never taking her eyes off of him, "my husband has several cars, but Tim always loved the Mustang the best. I never understood Edward's love of cars. They are just different classes of metals, if you ask me. I, however, have far more interesting hobbies."

Her last remark was ambiguous as she eyed him alluringly.

Mike cleared his throat. Connie watched this exchange and even though Mike was not returning the flirtatious gesture, she still felt herself seething quietly. And that bothered her.

"So you left for Mexico immediately after the party?" Mike asked.

Heather Brantley shifted in her seat, "Why, Mr. Cutter," she showed pouted lips as she blinked innocently, "I'm not a suspect am I?"

It took all of Connie's self control not to throw something at Heather Brantley.

"Just trying to eliminate anyone as a suspect, Mrs. Brantley" Mike assured her, his expression neutral.

Heather sighed, "Yes. The other prosecutor had already checked out our alibi that night. We have proof we had been in Mexico. My husband is a wannabe adventurer. His idea of fun is hiking to a remote area in Mexico to communicate with the Taqui Indians. Meanwhile I wait for him aboard our cruise yacht. He enjoys his hobby and I enjoy mine."

She almost purred the last part.

"Mrs. Brantley," Connie interjected in a professional manner, "Tell us again the purpose of your visit."

Heather turned and gave Connie a haughty look.

"I'm here to plead with you to drop all charges against my nephew," she said coolly to Connie. Then as an afterthought, her face and voice softened when she turned back to Mike, "After all, I would do anything if you could do that for me...anything."

Could this woman's intentions be more transparent? Connie irritably thought.

"Thank you for coming in, ," Mike stood, "I will certainly take your suggestion under consideration."

At first Heather Brantley seemed a bit surprised that she was being dismissed as Mike reached out to shake her hand. Then smiling seductively, she clasped his hand and held it a few seconds too long.

"I heard you had asked for a continuance during Tim's trial and that tells me you desire more information before you proceed," her voice was unusually low and sensual.

If Connie had been drinking water, she'd be spitting it out at this moment. Right at Heather Brantley.

Mike wasn't sure how to take all these overt suggestive moves, especially in front of Connie, "Perhaps Miss Rubirosa and I should pay a visit to your father-in-law Edison Brantley."

"Oh my, you are brilliant!" Heather Brantley looked pleased, "And when you visit him, Mr. Cutter, try and convince Edison that Tim wasn't involved with killing that man. Edison is also furious with my husband for not keeping a better eye on Tim."

"I'll see what I can do," was all Mike said,

"Be sure to keep me informed," Heather said, as she gave Mike her card with her number listed, "day and night, you can call me."

Then she turned and with her hips swishing, she walked out.

When the door clicked shut, Mike turned to Connie, "Well?"

"I'm surprised she didn't drag a bed in here," Connie stated sarcastically.

Mike's mouth curved into a smile.

"Despite all that Betty Boop posturing," Mike declared, "I found her to be an interesting woman." Connie wasn't sure if he was trying to get a rise from her, but if he was, it was working.

"It was only interesting how her hips moved. I'm sure you noticed that, too," Connie said, almost kicking herself after she said it.

Mike responded, "You were looking too."

"True," Connie commented, "but the act was strictly for your benefit."

Mike gave her a second look and for a split second he thought she might be jealous, but then no, why would she be, when she had someone waiting for her at home?

And he couldn't help thinking that he wished he were the one waiting at home for Connie.

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